one more watts: chapter two

Behold the second collection of Instagram posts in the #onemoreWatts narrative. (You can check out chapter one here.)



Published January 16, 2017

In the last long-winded #onemoreWatts post I mentioned taking casual headshots and a building new website. You deserve an explanation. This is where I open my imaginary little brown paper bag and let the cat out.

I’m writing a book. (SH*T. This is where I wish said imaginary paper bag was real so I could violently hyperventilate into it. Goals on the internet. Four-letter words on the brain.)

I ought to take a few steps back. Follow me, if you like. I wasn’t planning on sharing what I’m about to share for a long while but in order for you to experience the fullness of our family’s situation, it’s a rather important detail.



Published January 16, 2017

The dream of writing a book sunk like an anchor into my heart over a decade ago. There have been many false starts, many delayed dreams. Newborns and new countries and new medical challenges. Moving from maybes to manuscripts is a grind.

Our five years in Scotland were seasoned liberally with gritty lessons, spiritual renewal, the fierce love of friends and gin-fueled hilarity. And in the midst of our time at the University of St Andrews, a collection of undergrad ladies stole my heart. For some reason, they liked my company. And when I spoke to them, they listened.

Though only ten years their senior, I quickly realized I possessed unusual life experience and wisdom to impart in their general direction. In the digital age, a decade feels like a generation gap. (I introduced some of them to Lauryn Hill, people. LAURYN HILL.)

Then last March, a songbird from Nashville flew to Scotland for a semester. Jesus crossed our paths and when Miss Julianna Zachariou landed on my doorstep, life went technicolour on every front.

JZ lived with us for a month before heading home to Tennessee. During that time, I wrote her a few heartfelt letters. Her mysterious presence opened up the floodgates to my creativity and passion. I learned to bathe in the glittery joy and tear-soaked pain of my past, revisiting it all for the sake of JZ and her peers in St Andrews.

Since the summer, my goal, my muse, my audience, my calling, my years of experience and my handsome gin tumbler all started lining up. “I am going to publish a book of letters to JZ by the end of 2017,” I declared.

And like that I firmly planted myself on the horse. And roughly a week later, after tossing a haphazard writing proposal into cyberspace, I was offered a free flight to Nashville in exchange for some work. In the blink of an eye, JZ and I had an opportunity to camp together on Johnny Cash’s farm, making memories with some of the sweetest humans around. (No kidding. #heguidedmetotennessee is a thing. And that story is far from over too. Talk about a rabbit hole. Sorry. I’m aggressively turning this around, I swear.)



Published January 16, 2017

(This is me throwing down the last post about my book for now.)

As I packed my bags for Tennessee in September, it dawned on me that if I was committed to going big as an author, I’d need to fund my dream with more copywriting. And to do that, I’d be smart to print business cards first and then postcards second (because letters are my jam.) Eventually, I’d need a new website. Ta da! Full circle. Miracles do happen.
Now go enjoy your Wednesday (or what’s left of it.)

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